


the in between

by hieliohelio



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: AU, Dystopia, Fluff, M/M, Mark Lee (NCT)-centric, Oneshot, Soft Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee, Sweet Lee Donghyuck | Haechan, Sweet Mark Lee (NCT), basically there are 2 cities which people live in based on, kinda i guess, they’re both softies, they’re kinda aged down from their current age, they’re like 17 and 16, whether they are more creative or analytical
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:53:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23663446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hieliohelio/pseuds/hieliohelio
Summary: Mark always thirsted after the sweet taste of freedom after being trapped in the walls of the city filled with dull greys.All at once, a boy with a smile like the sun’s and sickly sweet words, enters his life like a tornado and Mark doesn’t know what to think.The only thing Mark knows is that this boy is like none he’s ever seen before.This boy was from the other side.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan & Mark Lee, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Kudos: 27





	the in between

**Author's Note:**

> hahaha so this was written as an English assignment for school, but I thought that switching my OC’s into Mark and Hyuck would fit nicely so this was made.

A gust of cold wind blows through the streets, whistling quietly as it brushes past buildings and skyscrapers. As far as the eye can see are the forbidding walls of towering structures, each filled with aloof workers, typing mindlessly. If the citizens were not tirelessly working away at the computers, then they were listening to a teacher’s hollow voice echo in a classroom. 

How long had it been, he thought. How long had it been since he felt warmth course through her veins. How long had it been since he heard the birds sing, had the sun bathing him in its sultry glow and peer into the vast expanse of blue sky. Ah yes. The last time he tasted the sweet, sweet flavour of freedom had been years ago, before he was told to move into the city of greys, blacks and whites, a monotonous realm of desolation. 

Oh, how he envied those who were able to live in the city of his dreams, one where colour filled the metropolis to the brim, where people had the clear skies as a guardian. The city he could only dream of was only the next district over, so close yet so far. But alas, the government stripped his freedom from the moment he sat that accursed exam to determine where he would live till his last breath. 

If only he was chosen to live with the blessed, the ones who were surrounded with vivid hues.

“Mark, pay attention or leave.”  
An impassive voice whisks him away from his thoughts, and throws him back into reality, a bleak room with minimal windows and tension thick in the air.  
His eyebrows furrow and his features turn into a grimace. All eyes were focused on him, intently watching how it would unfold. A loud sigh escapes Mark’s parted lips, jerkily, he picks up the bag which had lain by his feet, and makes his way to the door, and out the school gates. He could hear the agitated yells of his math teacher fade in and out of focus behind him, but pays it no heed as he runs through the streets of his monochromatic prison. 

The air gets knocked from his lungs. His back aches as it collides with the harsh concrete of the alleyway. Profuse apologies fill his ears, he slowly opens his eyes, vision still blurry and tries to blink away the fuzziness, trying to see just what poor soul he ran into.

His breath hitches.

His onyx eyes widen.

“Y-You, you’re from the city of colours.”

His jaw falls slack, inky orbs filled with disbelief. 

But there the boy was. 

There, dusty overalls askew, shock evident in his soft features, is a child painted with the colours of the gods. A young boy, with sun kissed, coffee skin, sprinkled with dark chocolate freckles. His ebony hair tousled, his eyes the essence of the land, the soft brown of timber trees. His cheeks were dusted with a rosy pink, and oh, oh how he glowed. His body radiates with the warmth that only a bird with no cage could ever match. How he longs to be like that, free to fly with the wind, dance with the waves. 

Collecting the pieces of his thoughts, Mark takes a deep breath, and speaks, “What are you doing here?” His voice is masked with feigned calmness, with what seems like unparalleled confidence. 

“U-uh I-” The boy’s voice is a stark contrast of Mark’s, filled with stutters. The latter quirks a brow, amused by the scene laid out before him. Placing a hand on the cement and pushing himself up, he proceeds to dust off his primly ironed dress-pants, tugging at them ever so slightly. Raising his arms above his head, he proceeds to lean back and stretch, feeling the crushing pains of worry fade away.

“Well then,” Mark said, voice tinged with raspiness, “are you going to tell me how you got in, or will you sit there all day in a heap of your own clothes?” He stretches out a pale hand, invitingly. The boy smiles, peach lips parted to show pearly teeth. Mark thought that his beam rivaled that of the sun, lighting up the dull alley in which they stood. Clasping his hold into Mark’s, the boy stands up, and shakes himself off. 

“Me? Oh, I ran.”

Mark’s obsidian eyes widen. Questions flood his head, destroying any confidence he once held. “But, why?” He asks, “Who would ever want to leave paradise, the place where freedom seeps from its outer walls?” 

The boy’s smile falters, honey brown pools averted. A sad smile adorns his soft features, and a faraway look washes over him. He looks almost as if he’s reminiscing, but Mark can’t be sure, he was never one to read emotions anyways. Silence falls over them, yet no tension fills the air. 

But something, something about this boy, who seems to emit light, who Mark has not once seen before. Something feels familiar. Even though he was everything Mark desired to be, everything he wanted a taste of, but just could never have, in this moment, Mark didn’t feel envy. For some unknown reason, he felt pity. Despite the fact that he had everything which Mark had not, for the first time, he feels a sliver of gratitude that he had been selected for the orderly city, abandoning for a moment what he had thirsted for for years.

All because of the look on this boy’s face. 

“Donghyuck.” 

Mark’s head tilts, puzzled. His neatly trimmed hair falls to one side, charcoal wisps flying over his pale complexion. Seeing the look on Mark’s face, the boy lets out a soft, melodic laugh, wiping faux tears from his eyes. “My name. My name is Donghyuck, Hyuck if you would.”

Hearing this, Mark seems to relax, and even smiles, “Mark Lee, it’s a pleasure.”

Donghyuck, he thinks, was quite a fitting name for a boy who shone just like the stars, and had constellations on his cheeks. There, Mark looks at him, and his expression changes into a more serious one. In turn, Donghyuck’s shoulders sag like a wilting flower. 

Mark’s eyes pierce through him as he speaks the words Hyuck had never thought to hear, “Come with me.” 

Donghyuck gapes as he tries to process what he just heard. Never once did he think that he’d get offered help once he ran away. He can clearly see the pity in Mark’s eyes, something Donghyuck would usually despise, but he can’t bring himself to hate the boy, Mark, who seems so warm if not for the cold exterior.

Relief seeps into the boy’s expression. 

Mark knew not one thing about the boy with stars in his eyes, but he knows that he feels the same as he does. He knows that Hyuck too, is tired of this. Despite meeting someone like him for the very first time, it’s as if they were old friends in another place.

Speaking with this boy seemed like a fresh breeze compared to the brisk gale Mark was used to.

“Perhaps,” Donghyuck says, seeing that Mark didn’t seem content here, “we could abandon this life.”

Mark seems to ponder on that thought for a while, observing the sun sinking over the horizon before answering, “Perhaps, we could.” 

The sky is silken with stars, glimmering in the inky darkness. Slinging a tattered backpack over a shoulder, Mark lips on a pair of combat boots, the closest thing to sneakers he owned. With a flick of his wrist, he undoes the lock on his window, and sticks his head out, peering both ways, making sure no stray person was wandering the streets. Whipping his legs around, he leaps, his hands softening the blow. He tucks and rolls as he lands. Taking a deep breath, he looks back up at the apartment window from where he jumped for one last time, and turns around, determination in his gaze. 

He runs.

His boots pound, and his heartbeat quickens, thumping in his ears. His lungs burn as he sprints, chest on fire. Despite this, he feels free. He can feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins, he can feel the wind lash at his face. He can feel the thoughts which once ate away at his mind fall away, and he thinks to himself that maybe this is the feeling that he longed for. It’s indescribable, it feels like he was underwater all his life and has taken his first breath of fresh air. Mark doesn’t think he’s felt anything quite like this, he hasn’t felt so light, as if each time his feet left the ground he could fly. 

It feels just so good.

He lets the breeze rake its fingers through his ebony hair, flowing behind him. Mark flees through the streets, turning his head to each side, watching the grey walls whizz past. 

All of a sudden, he halts. He can almost see the dust fly out from under his shoes as he abruptly stops. He’s all too familiar with the alleyway which now holds so much meaning, so many memories. He peers up at the night sky, watching the twinkling specks dusted through the vast expanse of black. Golden flecks in the abyss, silver gems littered everywhere. Maybe it’s the last time he’ll see this alley. 

Mark continues to run till he can breathe no more, till his lungs give out and his knees buckle under his weight. He can see the sun peeking over the horizon now. At last, he stands, facing the oh so familiar walls. The ones which held their heads tall, watching the city below. He pales in comparison to their size, yet now, he’s never felt so tall. 

With a quick motion, hee opens the buckle of the bag, taking a frayed rope with an anchor attached to the end. Swinging it over his shoulder, he throws it up, letting the cord fly over the tip of the structure. His grip tightened as he felt the line tense when the iron hook hit the green plains over yonder. If it was the grass that dampened the blow, Mark knows not, but he can vividly imagine the dewy fields which await his arrival. 

His legs throb as he scales the wall, arms clutching onto his lifeline. He knew that one misstep would mean falling into the hold of death, but that was a measly price to pay for freedom. 

Mark’s arms fall slack as he sits, perched on the tip of the town. He dares not look down. 

He jumps.

He can feel the soles of his boots sink into the plush cushiony meadows. His eyes flutter open and widen at the sight he’s met with. Paddocks running past the skyline, the soft zephyr combing its way through the rustling grass. There’s not a cloud in sight this early in the dawn, and the sun peeks out from the horizon, showering his in pink hues. Oh, how great it felt to finally see the sky. How great it felt to see colours filling the plain. It’s just like how he expected, but more. He could never have fathomed the fresh scent that the morning dew held, nor the comfort that the mellow rays of the sun brought. 

He hears the faint footsteps louden, and smiles knowingly when he feels someone brush against his side. 

He doesn’t need to have experienced this before to know that he has finally found home. He doesn’t need to have felt the sun’s warmth to know that what she’s found is better. He doesn’t need to know the glow of the moon above to know that it could never compare the boy next to him. He doesn’t need to know Hyuck’s past when they both feel content now. 

Looking at the boy beside him, Mark can tell that he feels the same way, that he’s finally found a place where he fits in.

“Let’s run away.”

Mark can still hear the words ringing through his head.

Perhaps he had never fit quite into the mould for his city of shadows, and perhaps Donghyuck never quite felt at home in his town of sunshine. 

Now Mark thinks, perhaps they never had to fit.

It’s much better here, in the inbetween.

**Author's Note:**

> hi, it’s hielio! thanks sm for reading my fic, and I rlly hope that it brought a smile to ur face, and please leave any constructive criticism etc. in the comments, which would be very much appreciated.


End file.
